It Was Just One Day, Clark Mahoney [cool books to read .txt] 📗

can fly in the air, and the other one can often linger and float in the air. Get it? A bee has a stinger. A bean can give you gas and it can linger in the air.”

“Ummm, that was a bit gross,” Spider stated.

“Okay,” he responded. “What did the bee say to the spider? Ahhhhhhh! What did the spider say to the bee? Gulp! Ha, ha, ha. That was a funny one, yes? Wait, neither of you is a bee? or a spider? Are you? Tell me you’re not. OMG! This is so awkward. I’m always telling that joke to the wrong crowd.”

Spider focused on Bee, looking directly into her eyes, and asked, “Do you trust me? You see, trust is essential in a relationship. Without trust, it won’t go anywhere. I must trust you not to attack me with your stinger, and well, you must trust me not to attack you with my fangs. Otherwise, one of us dies. Or, both of us. What shall it be?”

 

Chapter 5

Bee thought for a moment. Since childhood, she’d been taught to NEVER trust a spider. They’ll say anything to get near you. And then, when your guard is down, you suddenly feel two piercing sensations, and the poison slowly drips into your system. You feel your senses slowing, eyesight losing its focus, and sleep coming upon you at breakneck speed. Then, you’re dead and somebody is eating you for dinner, and your friends talk about how nice you USED to be, and how much they miss you now that you’re gone.

“Do you trust me?” he asked again.

So often, when asked a serious question, she’d pause, think for a minute, then answer, after having considered other possibilities. She always thought about what she was going to say first, instead of just blurting out an answer. That was the teacher in her. But, not this time. She knew what she wanted, and she was willing to take a chance to find it.

“Yes! Emphatically YES! I trust you to be my friend, to take my thoughts and feelings into consideration, to do me no harm, and to honor our friendship. Of course I trust you. Do you trust me?”

Did he? He wondered that very question. She was a flyer…with a stinger. Could he trust her to do him no harm? Well, there was only one way to find the answer. He walked closer to her, raised his fangs, pressed his pedipalps, his “extra arms” that help in the eating process, close to her body, and…

He began to eat away at the cords that bound her tight, one silk thread at a time, careful not to touch her with the tips of his fangs. Though they contained no venom at the moment, they could puncture her skin, which could do her serious harm, or lead to her death. He was gentle and precise, as all spiders can be, and quickly made a meal of what used to be his web.

She fell with a “thud” to the ground, many body lengths away, dizzy, but happy to be untangled. She breathed a sigh of relief, “Wheh!”

“Hello, little friend, a voice beamed at her from above, just above her face, a stinger‘s-length away.

“Ahhhhhh!” she screamed, forgetting the happiness and relief that was here just a moment ago, as a hideous monster stood poised over her.

“Don’t be alarmed, for we are already acquainted. I am Centipede. And you are the flyer who was stuck in Spider’s web. I see that you are no longer a captive, and now OFF the dinner menu. Get it? Off the menu. Anyways, such a wonderful feeling, isn’t it, to be free? Once a prisoner, bound by silken chains, and now…NOT. So, how do you feel?”

Free, she thought. Never before had freedom tasted so good, with possibilities, and friendships, available for the asking. Friendships. That’s two, and just ten minutes earlier, she had none. She righted herself, buzzed her wings to make sure they worked, and settled back onto the leaf pile, glad that it cushioned her landing in the fall. “I am Bee. I seek friendship. What do you seek?”

Quick to answer, short to think, he laughed, “Soft bellies. I seek soft bellies to fill my hungry belly. Earthworms are the softest, for they have no weapons, like these,” waving his poisonous claws in her face. “My stomach growls, and I growl back. Ha! No really, I’m pretty simple. I seek food, and well, you’re NOT the kind of food I normally seek, so I guess that we could come to an agreement between ourselves, to avoid the sharp parts of each other’s bodies, and maybe see if our friendship takes. See if we become friends, or just annoy each other. Some say that I can be a bit annoying.”

“Hey, I believe that her question was originally directed towards me, crawler,” snorted a little peeved Spider, as he dropped down to the earth on a silken thread.

“Well, hello there, Spider. I’d like you to meet a very nice flyer. Do you have a name?” Centipede asked.

“Call me Bee.”

“Ah, Bee, Spider, and Centipede, all down here among the crawlers. Now, isn’t that just special? I wonder what my neighbors are thinking now,” pondered Centipede, often focused on public opinion and what others thought of him and his shiny red carapace. Then, he felt a tremble, just light enough for him to sense danger, a furry predator maybe, looking for a tasty snack…

“Ummm, you two might want to seek a safer spot to continue this conversation,” warned Centipede, as he disappeared silently underneath the leaf pile.

 

Chapter 6

Back at the hive, high up in an oak tree, the bees did as they always do.

As the night air cooled, they slowed their buzzing, and settled down to rest for the evening. Little ones stopped their games of tag, and loop-ti-loop, and follow the leader. Older ones rested their aching joints from a long day‘s work.

No one noticed that one bee was not there. No one realized that she was gone. They were all too busy doing what bees always do.

A thousand bee-lengths below, another tree sat in the creek, a victim of a severe rain storm. It was no longer alive, no longer full of birds, or squirrels, or bees. It had been their home, a wonderful place to live, for so many generations, until that fateful night when they were all awoken by a sudden “BOOM!”

“What was that?” a bee asked another, then another, and then the hive was abuzz, as the lightning flashed and the ensuing thunder roared through the valley. They all felt the energy in the air, making flight impossible. Something horrible was happening, and they knew it. The children had heard stories of the end of all that is. It would come in a giant light-storm, with flashes, and booms, and danger, and all would end, the bees, the hive, the tree. Everything. Was this it? Was this the end?

Another “BOOM!” while rain poured from the sky, flowing down the edges of the hill, picking up dirt, and rocks, and sending them tumbling into the creek below, tumble, tumble, crash!

Huddled tightly in their hive, protected from the rain, they felt a massive CRACK! Then movement, unfamiliar twisting, twirling, and rolling, and then SPLASH! The tree and their hive was now in the creek, once so far away, now a torrent, flowing over and under them, threatening to drown them all.

“Out! Out! To the skies, everyone!” shouted the older bees to the youngsters. “Now! Go! Go! Go!” But they couldn’t fly, not with the pouring rain, and the lightning, and the intense fear that gripped all of them and kept them rooted to the ground, crawling and crawling.

That night, most of their hive drowned, washed downstream, never to be heard from again, workers, drones, and little ones.

Those who survived the disaster, few in number, fled to the tree that stood silently up on the hillside the next morning, once the rain let up, and their wings dried, to start again, a new hive. There was no time for tears, for sorrow, for sadness. They had work to do. They were bees, and bees worked. They didn’t stop to reflect on the past or dwell on their losses.

A generation later, in that new home, perched high along the cliff-face, the little ones settled down, resting, for another day would begin at sunrise, and they wanted to be ready for that, to buzz, and fly, and zoom.

Someone was missing, but no one noticed that night. No one.

 

Chapter 7

“A safer spot?” queried Bee. “What was he…?”

“Shhh!” Spider warned, as he pointed toward the waving sagebrush just a few yards upriver. Something was causing the branches to move, to wiggle, to separate. Something big. And out here, something “big” means something “dangerous.”

Silently, Spider crawled back up his dragline, eight legs all working to hoist him away from noisy critter in the bushes, up to his web, while Bee looked around with curiosity and interest. Is this another friend? she wondered. She’d met two critters so far this night, but being new to this part of the canyon, she had no idea of the danger that was inching its way towards her.

Badger was on the prowl. He was still hungry. Still, yes, for he’d found several earthworms and one grub. He was a big fella, and needed lots of wigglers to cease the rumbling in his belly. He loved grubs the best, fat, juicy, with no stingers or claws. Mmmmm. The best place to find them was in fallen trees, soft and easily torn apart from years of decaying brought about by rain. He’d sniff around, now where is my dinner? Sniff, I smell something. Sniff, over here, on the edge of this log. Dig, dig, with his sharp claws, watching the porous, water-soaked log rip apart from his digging. “There it is, little white six-legged wiggler. Would you like to have dinner with me? Wait, let me phrase that properly. Would you like to BE dinner for me? Ha, ha, ha. I crack myself up sometimes.”

Badger was still very hungry, and he smelled something. What was it? His nose wiggled to the left, and right, and left. He stopped, confused. This was not a wiggler he smelled. Nope. This was something else. Although he had an excellent nose, so cute, yes, and really good at sniffing out dinner, he needed more information.

Shhh! Don’t move. Listen carefully, for those critters who scurried away on clawed